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Today I left a house
A place that felt like home
With a pocket filled with diamonds
Tokens from Rome

I left to forget your eyes that never saw me
Your hands that never touched me
To stop asking for the voice you never gave me
To stop wanting your heart that never held me

The land was foreign
The walls were never meant for me
The dishes, the pillows
The art
All meaningless materials
I gave them away to set me free

So I turned the key
And handed it to a stranger
whispering as I kissed his cheek
Be happy

And with the stroke of a pen
I am a nomad, again

I don’t know why he started playing, but I like to think he did it for us. To fill our home with music, something I had always dreamed of. The fact that he taught himself, was impressive in its own right. But, the fact that he impresses me with the sweetest melodies, well that’s a miracle for me.
I want to believe he plays to show me he loves me, but then again I want to believe many things that are not necessarily true to anyone but me. The beautiful chords he strums reminds me that my heart is still alive, though beaten and battered. The crafted notes remind me of the life we built for each other, and that the years will keep us together forever. I belong to him. He is the one that chose me, and chooses me everyday. The only one who ever did that for me. He is the one that has always stood by my side, and let me be whoever and whatever I needed to be in life. The songs tell our story, and for that I am grateful that he is my partner in this journey.
When he plays, he reminds me why I married him. I had forgotten how beautiful his eyes are, when he is happy. I am glad the songs of that wooden instrument -that melodic tool- made me look at him with fresh eyes. Maybe he doesn’t know it, but his guitar has brought me back home, and it is his music that heals my heart. He gives me something beautiful, everyday.

ICAO…

I will never say those words again
Not even to the night sky
I will tell myself they are no longer true
Until I believe it too

I will live to forget those words
Though their weight is all my gold
Until I no longer remember your name
Until I can’t remember why
I will forget that you are the reason for my every step forward
So long as there is air in my lungs… I will live every day
Until I no longer remember you

This is my wish for you

ICAO…🕊

Your smile a cruel lie
Your hate real
Your heart empty
So you broke something beautiful
With your callous hands
Your prayer answered
No more
No more anything
No more you
No more sadness

When I think of Rome, I think of:

• The taste of the water at public fountains
• The view from the top of Castel Sant’Angelo on a clear day
• Walking over the Tiber River, every day, several times a day
• Looking past the graffiti and grime to see the intricate details of stonework throughout the city, and imagining what it must have been like in its heyday
• Street covers that read SPQR
• Rays of morning sunlight piercing through the Colosseum’s portals
• Visiting with Bernini’s sculptures at the Galleria Borghese – in the place where the works were commissioned and intended to be displayed
• The sound of rain falling on tile roof tops, and cobble stone streets
• Watching the grim faces of the general public melt into a smile when you talk with them
• Walking and never feeling tired because around every corner, there is something amazing to see and appreciate
• The Map Gallery at the Vatican Museums
• The wonderful smell of that store that sells linens on Via Tomacelli
• Standing on the hilltop, overlooking the Piazza del Popolo, and watching life take place
• The way music sounds in the Teatro dell’Opera di Roma
• Listening to Italians speak English (because my Italian is so bad) with the most heartwarming accent
• How terrible TV selection is, forcing you to it turn off, and participate in life, which is happening all around you
• When Juventus comes to town and plays against Roma or Lazio at the Stadio Olimpico
• How much I stare at the calendar, thinking about the next trip back to Rome

I believed…

My muscles move me
From memory
I walk farther and farther
Each day, farther
A journey meant for me
Without you
And, in my body
I felt hope today
Inside me, for me
It felt different
Than it did with you
It felt like Spring in Paris
It felt like Winter in Rome
It felt like all the places I call home
It felt like the rose
That I wore for you

I stood strong
My heart in hand
And I watched
As a wall built before me
Every brick higher and higher
Until I could see nothing
Hear nothing
Be nothing…to you
My hands
They felt the cold stone
I walked away
With only gravel in my palm

You always found me
To rest from your quest
For a world that will never exist
For you…

To be lost
Deep in someone who cares
To melt away the dark within
With eyes that danced for you

Will you forget
The rose I wore for you
The color of my cheeks
Flushed from endless expectation

Will you remember the hope in me
A caress of the hand
How I loved, and lived in a world that would never exist
For me…

You can hate me, because I’m American
Because I was raised different than you
You can hate me for my age
Or because I’m conservative and realistically politically centered

You can hate me for my words
Because I speak of something greater than you, greater than me
You can hate me because I don’t talk like you, sound like you…
breathe in life like you

You can hate me for my brown hair
That rests below my shoulders,
on my pale skin
You can hate me for my brown eyes
Because they see you as you are
Because I see you the way I see you

But you can’t make me hate you

You aren’t strong enough to make me who you want me to be
You aren’t smarter, braver, better than me
You are you
And I am me